


Longshot

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Haymitch and Effie slept together. It started with nothing but they may have created something inadvertently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_One_ **

It started out with nothing more than him trying to shut out the sound of her sniffling. She tried to be as quiet as possible but in the silence that followed the death of their last Tribute so early on in the game, the sound of Effie's crying pierced loudly through the Penthouse. He gripped the neck of his bottle tighter and ground his teeth.

It was Effie Trinket's third year as an Escort and they had already established a polite disdain for each other's company. The foolish woman had actually been quite taken by the pair of District Twelve tributes this year. She had gone as far as to refer to them as children instead of Tributes like she had done the previous two years and he bit his cheek in time to stop himself from lashing out at her not to form an attachment, if she could even form one. He doubted all those Capitol puppets had a heart to begin with. They were probably born empty and ready to accept whatever their dear President dictated.

Haymitch could barely stand being in the same room as her and he found himself quite taken aback when he had silenced her crying by pressing his lips to hers. He kept telling himself as his grip on the bottle slackened that he couldn't stand the sight of her crying. It made her seem human and he didn't want to see that. She was a Capitol manipulation and that was all she would remain to him.  _Not human, not human,_  he thought fiercely but that train of thought soon abandoned him when she returned his kisses with as much ferocity.

The bottle dropped with a heavy thud on the carpeted floor and watched as her eyes flutter shut; a tear still clung onto her long emerald eyelashes. Effie gripped his front shirt as he explored her mouth with his tongue. As he pushed her back against the sofa, one of her hands pulled the throw pillow trapped beneath her hip and let it fall on the floor.

His hands roughly pulled her skirt up and her legs parted for him. Haymitch kneeled on top her and tore the front of her dress, the buttons flying wildly clattering around in the room. The grip she had on his hair loosened as she tried to take her wig off her head with Haymitch kissing and sucking on her neck. He stilled her hands when he realized what she was attempting to do.

"Leave it, Trinket. Leave the wig alone," he growled into her ear.

As curious as he was about Effie's natural hair, tonight, he wanted to remind himself that she was just like the rest of them; that she was as Capitol as when he first met her. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to rid himself of the image of her crying just moments ago.

_No, she's just another Capitol woman I take to bed._

He palmed her breast, a hand slipping down her navel to find her wet folds. He was rewarded with throaty groan and an arch of her back.

That night passed in a blur of tangled limbs, scraping teeth, long sigh and loud groans. He collapsed beside her on the sofa, flat on his stomach with a hand thrown carelessly over her chest. She turned to look at him, a million questions reflected in her eyes and he turned his head away and fell asleep. He felt ashamed of himself for having just slept with Effie Trinket. If it was any other woman, he never had to see them again but this was Effie the sight of her smudge lipsticks, lopsided wig and the way she moan as she came was not something he could easily forget.

When he woke up the next day, she was gone and his train ticket was on the coffee table under an empty liquor bottle he must have finished the night before.

They never spoke of that incident again. For many years to come, their relationship from then on was merely professional.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**_Two_ **

The second time they fell in bed together was in a drunken celebratory giddiness. She was slightly drunk while he was half-sober.

Cinna and Portia had left for an exclusive Capitol Stylist party which of course left Haymitch and Effie alone in the Penthouse. The woman had flitted around their living quarters mumbling about the way Katniss had drugged Peeta to sleep while she went off alone to the Cornucopia and Effie had placed the blame squarely on him.

"You should have never sent her that parachute in the first place, Haymitch!"

"Shut up, Trinket. First you ask me to do my job, now you're telling me I should have never gotten that girl a sponsor?"

She pursed her lips in annoyance but she did keep her mouth shut when Katniss came back with the medicine that Peeta desperately needed.

When the finale approached, Effie sat silently beside Haymitch, her hand clutching his in a death grip. He was very much tempted to pull it away and sit as far away from her as possible but he had seven years to learn that if he did that, the alternative would be to endure as she paced around the room in her mounting anxiety. That was a surefire way to drive him mad.

So he endured as she continued cutting off of the bloody supply to his arm.  _Just keep drinking._  He was still in full control of his mental faculties when Katniss and Peeta were announced as winners.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. You better call us the moment we're allowed to see them," he mumbled into the phone.

"So?" Effie asked once he hung up.

"We won't be able to see them now. Not yet. They'll call us as soon as we're allowed to."

"Oh," she replied, looking slightly crestfallen before immediately perking up. "Well, in the meantime, this is a cause for celebration!"

She brought out the wine and they toasted to District Twelve's first ever victory in a long time. One glass of wine turned into another and soon they'd drunk two bottles between them. Effie was dancing on her feet, swaying precariously and colliding into furniture around her. Haymitch got up and grabbed her by the arm, half dragging her back to her room.

"Come on, sweetheart. You've had enough," he slurred, still holding on to his drink.

Effie tried pulling away and the wine in his hand splashed on his shirt. She giggled and without any explanation began to unbutton his vest. He watched her through half lidded eyes, not really comprehending her actions.

The vest fell on the floor and his blue shirt hung loose. Effie gave a sloppy smile and ran her hands over his naked chest before looping it around his neck.

"We've won, Haymitch. Don't look so sour," she whispered.

"It's your proximity that –"

"Why? Don't you like me?" Effie pouted before throwing her head back, laughing. "Of course, you don't. But please just forget it for a while, Haymitch. I just want to feel good tonight. We just won."

And she kissed him then. She took him by the hand and led him to her room, a feat he was surprised she was capable of accomplishing in her state. Effie pushed him onto the bed and crawled on top of him after she shimmied out of that impossibly tight skirt of hers. She ground his growing erection as she kissed him. His hands slipped under her blouse and roamed her back.

They remained in the position for a while simply just kissing until her hands travelled down to unbuckle his belt. His pants and boxers snagged on his knees when she pushed them down but he made no move to fully get rid of those garments. His impatience was growing so he pulled on her undergarments, urging her to be quick about it. When she finally sank onto him and took his length in her, it took all of his self-control not to flip her over and have her the way he wanted to.

Effie had told him she wanted to feel good and if she wanted to feel good then he would let her. The grip he had on her hips tightened as Effie began to move back and forth, rocking and riding him.

Haymitch had her full frontal view but her breast was unfortunately still trapped under her satin blouse. As she bounced up and down on him, one of his hands began to make short work of her dress and with a triumphant groan of pleasure, her breasts were freed and in full glory for his viewing. Effie scrunched her face, giving off an undignified scream as waves of pleasure shook her. Her palms lay flat on his chest, panting heavily with her head hung low. Haymitch didn't allow her much time to rest before he flipped her over so he was on top and began pounding into her until he came soon enough.

Rolling off her, he lay on her bed trying to catch his breath and was rather unprepared when she snuggled up and pressed her face on the crook of his neck. He had half a mind to pull away and leave for his room but as she said, they'd just won and the prospect of spending the rest of the night alone in his room was not enticing at the moment. Tonight, strangely, he wanted some company and that was how he found himself listening to her drunken ramblings.

She spoke of how proud she was of Katniss and Peeta, how afraid she had been and how genuinely happy she was that they didn't have to bring back two children in body bags this year. Effie told him she was proud of him for doing his job and pressed a soft kiss below his ear lobe. His breath hitched and he tightened his hold on her hand that was resting on his chest.

"You did a great job, Mitch. You got them out of that gory arena alive and you didn't let the Gamemakers kill them," she mumbled sleepily.

She sounded nothing like the Escort he knew, she spoke like a child who finally had something the bully had kept from her all those while and staying in her bed after their post-coital activities, listening to her talking was the first stupid mistake he made where Effie was concerned. That was the first time he realized that Effie might not have enjoyed the Games as much as he thought she did and it made him felt odd to come to terms with that realisation. His hand searched the bed side table for the cigarette he knew Effie always kept around when the stress got too much for her and lit it up, staring into the ceiling.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**_Three_ **

The first time Haymitch Abernathy took Effie Trinket to his bed was the day of the Third Quarter Quell Reaping.

"I won't do it. I won't!"

He slammed his hand on the dining table in his kitchen, red eyes blazing with fury as he stared angrily at Effie.

"Do you understand what you're saying? They will kill you and if that is not bad enough, sweetheart, your refusal won't mean shit. The Capitol will send another person to take your place."

The truth of his statement hit her with such force that her knees gave way and she collapsed on the nearby chair.

"I can't send any of you back. It could be you, Haymitch. I just can't -"

Effie sounded broken. He gripped the back of the chair and willed silently for her to get herself together. Where was that annoyingly chipper woman when he needed her?

He rummaged his kitchen for a bottle but was left feeling angrier than before he started his search. Peeta had completely cleaned his house of alcohol and he was stuck with an emotional woman. Haymitch was close to reaching his breaking point.

"Get yourself together, Effie! It's us. It's Katniss going back there. It's me or Peeta, not you! Not you, never you! So shut the fuck up."

She looked like Haymitch had just slapped her. He leaned his hands on the kitchen counter and hung his head.

"I'm going back," he whispered. "If it's Peeta's name that you pick later, I –"

"You'll volunteer," she gasped, finishing his sentence for him.

"I don't want to go back, Effie. It's hell in there and I can't go back. I can't win a second time."

He felt her hand snaking around his stomach, her cheeks resting on his back as she hugged him from behind. He let her because the comfort it provided him was something he needed at such a crucial point in time. Ever since the night they slept together celebrating their first two victors, Effie was less hesitant about initiating contact with him. He learnt to be less cruel with his jibes and he found himself more curious regarding the layers of masks beneath the Escort's exterior personality – especially things about the Capitol that she realized and kept hidden.

"We'll think of something, Mitch," she said, trying to reassure him.

Haymitch chuckled. "It's not so easy, Effie. It's not something you can fix – I didn't fuck it up with a sponsor. There's no way out. This is the Games we're talking about."

He turned to face Effie and slowly wrapped his arms around her.

"Get Katniss out," he said as he pressed his cheek against her head. "You and Peeta – both of you can do it. Just get her out of the arena alive."

She shook her head furiously, a lock of hair from her wig tickling his nose. "No, we can do it again! We'll get the both of you out. Just like how it was last –"

"Listen to me, Effie. You get her out. That's the plan. Don't question me, just do it," he grabbed her face in his hand and gave her a little shake. She eyed him frightfully.

"Promise me that, Eff. If you pick my name today, just promise me that one thing."

He had no idea who initiated it but her eyes were beginning to water and Haymitch hated crying women, especially Effie. When their lips met, he felt her tears falling down her cheeks. Their kiss was messy and wet and … salty but it didn't stop him from carrying her up the stairs and into his room.

Haymitch wondered briefly if that was how their kisses would always be, with Effie crying most of the time. Maybe he should get her drunk like last year but that would mean that he wanted whatever it was they were doing to continue.

When he laid her down on his bed, and pulled away momentarily to catch his breath, she looked at him, eyes puffy and red with her mascara smudged around it. He removed his shirt and she did the same with her dress, her hands shaking as she did so.

"You better fix your face before you go up that stage," he whispered before dropping a kiss to the juncture of her neck.

"My – my wig… Do you want me to leave it on?"

He paused and she waited for his answer. "Yeah, leave it."

"Why –"

Haymitch swallowed her question with another kiss.  _Why?_  He knew why but he couldn't admit it out loud. Because if he saw her for who she was in the privacy of his room without the things that marked her as a Capitol citizen, then it would never be the same and he could never volunteer for Peeta when the time came.

 _Why?_  Why must he gave it all up and go back to the arena again when there was a woman who was clearly infatuated with him. When there was a possibility that he might want said woman's company more than he deemed appropriate?

He tried to ignore those questions raging in his head and focused all of his attention on the woman underneath him. Haymitch kissed her lips, dragged his tongue languidly to trace her jaw down her neck before stopping at the hollow of her throat where he knew she was sensitive. But despite it all, their foreplay was short. Effie was still crying and Haymitch couldn't look at her as the tears fell silently.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," Effie kept saying as she tried to desperately stop crying.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She nodded. Haymitch sighed and buried his face in her neck. Effie stroked his hair softly, and whispered hesitantly, "Can we just lie down here together? Until the Reaping, at least?"

Pushing himself off her, he lay on his back and before he could even give her his answer, Effie had taken the liberty of lying on his chest and snuggling in. That felt strangely like déjà vu, it felt familiar that he wanted to push her off him – he didn't need this, not hours before the Reaping but she was so emotionally vulnerable that he kept quiet.

"Do you ever like me, Haymitch?"

He frowned at the oddness of her question. "Sure, when you're not nagging at me about manners."

That made her chuckle. "I can't help it, you know. It's the way I've been brought up."

"Hmmm."  _Capitol._   _Just another Capitol girl._

"That's not what I really meant," she said after a while and Haymitch tensed at her words. "Do you like me? You know… As a … a person, I mean more than just… What am I to you?"

"Trinket," he started. Perhaps the use of her last name would reassert and put her back in her place but there was a slight pause when he realized the meaning her name carried. A trinket;  _his trinket._  Her eyes flickered up to him and she held his gaze, silently pleading that she had heard wrongly and he had not meant what he said. It surprised him to know that he could tell that simply by looking at her.

"Do you really want to ask me that question right before you sentence me to death?" he continued.

She flinched and he realized that he might have been too harsh. Effie pushed the covers back and without looking at him, began gathering her clothes.

"I'm sorry, I should just… May I use your bathroom? My make-up…" she mumbled and disappeared into the bathroom he had just silently pointed to her.

When she reappeared moments later, he hadn't moved and with a "See you at the Square", Effie Trinket left his house.

Later on, Haymitch couldn't help the feelings of disgust rising in him when he saw the relief in her eyes the moment Peeta volunteered to take his place. He wished he never acquired the ability to read her because then he wouldn't be able to tell the way her muscles relaxed when she knew he didn't have to go back. It didn't make her evil, it just made her selfish. But who was he to say she was selfish when he found himself being able to breathe slightly better now?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this might have been more angsty than I anticipated


	4. Chapter 4

**_Four_ **

She found him on the rooftop of their Penthouse suite in the wee hours of the morning and stood silently beside him. He looked like a wreck and Effie told him as much. He hadn't slept in days; he had to divide his time between coordinating for sponsors with the other Districts and sneaking off to meet Plutarch to discuss the plan they had.

There was Effie, of course. He had to keep her off his back and not rouse her suspicion but he thought it was futile. Contrary to what people generally believed, Effie wasn't entirely stupid. She realized something was amiss but had no idea how to get through to Haymitch for an explanation.

"You're leaving," she said softly. The air was cold around them and she pulled her robes tighter against her body.

Throwing his head back and looking up at the clear dark sky, Haymitch inhaled sharply. He had no idea how she knew or what she suspected but it didn't matter anymore. Effie wasn't going to inform anyone of her suspicion. If she wanted to, Haymitch knew she would have done so a long time ago, so he nodded his answer.

The smoothness of her palm as it slid into his hand was such a foreign feeling that he looked at their linked hand and then up at her questioningly. She was looking down on the streets below pensively but turned her head towards him when she felt his gaze on her.

"Come to bed. You need to sleep. You need rest – you won't be any good to them if you're so exhausted," she said simply before softly tugging his hand and leading him down from the rooftop back towards the Penthouse.

Haymitch made no protest as he followed her. He kept glancing down at their hands as though he found the concept of someone even holding on to his hand so puzzling. Before he even realized it, he was in the middle of her room and the woman standing before him was looking slightly nervous.

"We don't have to – I know the last time didn't end up well. I didn't bring you here to… you know. We'll just sleep," she said finally.

"Okay," he replied. He could deal with that. It wasn't as if he wasn't exhausted enough to be doing anything else.

Haymitch pulled the covers up, slid in and laid his head on the pillow with a small sigh.  _The pillow smells like her,_  he thought to himself as he inhaled the fruity scent. After a while, he felt the bed dip on the other side and turned around just in time to see a flash of blonde hair before Effie switch off the bed side lamp.

"Goodnight, Haymitch," she said softly, turning sideways with her back facing him.

They remained that way for some time with him on his back and her on her sides; her hands tucked under her head. He couldn't sleep. For some unexplainable reason, his exhaustion had left him and he was so acutely aware of the woman beside him. Haymitch could tell that she was still awake just by her breathing.

He turned sideways to face her and watched her silhouette in the dark room - watched as her body rose and fell with each breath she took and the mess of hair splayed on her pillow. He was overwhelmed by the desire to know how she looked like now in the wee hours of the morning, in her dark bedroom hidden away from the prying eyes of the world.

His hand hovered above her head and slowly he brought it down to stroke her hair. It felt so soft and he twirled a strand of her shoulder length hair around his index finger. He saw her stiffened but remained unmoving otherwise. Almost naturally, he ran his hand from her hair to her shoulder, down her arms and traced the swell of her hip before bringing it up again to her shoulder. He gently pushed the strap of her nightgown off and placed a kiss on her bare shoulder.

She shuddered at the feel of his lips on her skin and made to turn around but his hand had travelled down to intertwine his fingers with hers and kissed her just beneath her earlobe.

He peppered kisses to her neck and shoulder, his hands running up and down her thigh causing the hem of her night gown to hike up exposing more of her skin to him. She tilted her head to the side so she could kiss him and their tongues explored each other for the first time without her tears messing it up.

His hand abandoned her thigh to snake down the front of her stomach and into her undergarments. He thumbed her clit and slowly inserted a finger in. Effie moaned and reached back to caress his cheeks, motivating him to increase the speed in which his finger was pumping into her.

Haymitch pressed his erection against the butt of her cheeks and began to dry hump into her at the same speed that his finger was working her to the edge. Effie's breathing was becoming more labored and when she came, her eyes were closed with her mouth parted slightly, his name falling from her lips. He kissed her, swallowing the soft, "Haymitch" she just whispered again.

Pulling her night gown up to her waist, he pulled her undergarments down and let her kick it off before flinging it carelessly across the room. Her back was still to him when he spread her legs and slowly, lowered himself into her from behind, propping himself on his elbows to support himself. His hand cupped one of her breasts and massaged it gently through her night dress, earning a moan from Effie.

Unlike the previous two occasions, sex with Effie that night wasn't marred by anger or the need to keep her silent nor was it influenced by alcohol. Sex that night felt like love-making and yet, it felt so tragically sad. He probably wouldn't be seeing her again for a long time, if not ever, depending on whether or not he survived the war. The arena would have exploded by the next day and they would all be enroute to District Thirteen if everythingwent according to plan and Effie… Well, she would not be part of that story. Their story was meant to end tonight – with her in the Capitol.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. He bit her none too gently as he tried to muffle the sounds he was making when he finally reached his peaked.

"You must be beautiful," he whispered, sinking back onto her soft pillow, trying to catch his breath.

"Come back and you can see how I look like and you can judge for yourself. Come back safe, Haymitch."

He had not meant to say it out loud. Her voice hitched when she asked that he returned safe and fearing that she might break into one her emotional tears again, he pulled her close and pressed her face against his neck. When he finally fell asleep, long after she had, it was with her hand wrapped around his mid-section, her warm breath against his skin and a whispered goodbye for the woman he was about to leave behind.

She was gone when he woke up the next day, no doubt, completing some task she had on her schedule and he never saw her again until the Rebellion was in full swing.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Here's a long chapter to close the story :)

* * *

**_Five_ **

He stood at the edge of her bed, looking down at the battered body of Effie Trinket. Haymitch reached out and wound a lock of her hair around his finger. It felt nothing like how it was the night before the Victors broke out. Gone were the smoothness and the shine he had caught a glimpse of.  _What a waste._

Her ribs jutted out sharply underneath the thin hospital gown she wore, her elbows were bony and her face so gaunt he doubted she was still alive if not for the faint sound of the heart monitor.

She had told him to come back safe, to see for himself how she looked like and this was not how he had imagined it. To be more precise, he had not imagined it all; he refused to believe in the possibility of his survival and he sure as hell was not expecting Effie to be caught in the middle of the crossfire.  _A traitor – Effie Trinket, a traitor?_

He scoffed bitterly at how ridiculous the Capitol was to torture and kill their own kind at leisure. Effie would have been on the list of those Capitol citizens murdered by their own government – a list that was growing at an alarming rate – if the Rebellion had come for her a little too late.

No, this was not how he imagined it all and he swallowed the bitter reality. He was certain that it was his fault yet again; another failure to protect the people who mattered. Effie mattered a great deal to him - of course she did. It was difficult to separate his feelings for her when they had been through so much and he wasn't just referring to the few occasions when they had sex over the years.

Suffice to say, Haymitch avoided the hospital wing where he knew Effie was warded. Not once did he visit her. He couldn't face her. What was he supposed to tell her?  _I'm sorry that I left you –_  it sounded terribly insincere and weak.

He  _had_  meant to leave her behind and that was the problem. Effie was never part of the plan but how was he to know that she would be taken? If she truly mattered, how could he just abandon her? Was he that monstrous of a person?

The first time they crossed paths afterwards was at the supposed assassination of President Snow. Haymitch stood rooted to the ground unable to move as he stared at Effie, draped in her Capitol attire once again. The Escort was back for her final job. Effie came to an abrupt stop when she saw him. They seized each other up at the hallway – so many things to say to each other and yet, not one of them knew how to begin. In the end, Effie backed down. Clutching her clip board close to her chest, she hurried past him with her head bent low.

In the chaos that followed the death of the two Presidents, Haymitch never saw Effie again.

XxX

Haymitch was fumbling about in the pockets of his jacket looking for his hip flask when he saw a strange woman standing in between two headstones. Her head was bent forward in a silent prayer with her hands clasped in front of her. She had a head full of wavy blonde hair and he found himself enthralled by the very sight of her.

His search for the flask was abandoned as he staggered closer to where she was. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder.

"Do I know you?" He caught himself asking.

The woman jumped and turned to face him, her eyes wild with fear. Her eyes were the same pair of eyes he had not seen for three years – the same sky blue that haunted his dreams and made his heart ache.  _Effie._

He took in her appearance and his lips curled in a smile. She became self-conscious and crossed her arms in front of her. Her face, now covered in light make up flushed in embarrassment. Effie wore a knee length light blue dress, a silver necklace adorned her neck and with her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders, Haymitch thought she was exquisite.

The last time he saw her without her Capitol clothes was in the hospital wing of District Thirteen and it was not a memory he wanted to remember but this…He wanted to remember this moment forever.

Effie had filled out somewhat and she definitely looked healthier. The paled face, skinny, gaunt woman lying helplessly on the bed in District Thirteen was gone and he wanted to know what brought about this positive change in her.

"Where have you been?" he croaked out. "You told me to come back safe and I did but you left. You weren't at the Capitol. I was searching for you for a year, Effs."

She opened her mouth to speak but shut it almost immediately, swallowing her answer.

"Well?" He prompted. "I don't have all day."

"I was angry. I was so angry with you," she replied and as though a dam had broken, once she started, Effie couldn't stop. "You left me, Haymitch. You gave me up to  _them_  and you have no idea,  _no idea,_  what they did to me. You cast me aside like I didn't mean anything and I had to take the fall. For you. For everyone."

"Effie…"

"No," she held up a hand to stop him. "I've had time to think and I understood your rationale. There was no place in District Thirteen for someone like me."

"That's not true," he ventured to speak.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologise."

She turned her back to him and Haymitch waited for her by the gates for her to finish paying her respects to all the fallen Tributes buried in that graveyard; Tributes that she had previously escorted to the Capitol.

When she was done and saw him waiting for her, she looked rather surprised.

"What were you doing at the cemetery?" she asked as they walked together side by side.

"Passing by."

"Oh."

He pulled out his silver hip flask which he had finally managed to locate from one of his pockets. Effie gave a sideway glance and smiled.

"Nice flask," she commented and pointed to his name engraved on it.

"Yeah, well, I found it on my dining table two years ago. A birthday present," he made a face. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever received a birthday present. His family was too poor to indulge in such a thing.

"Who was it from?"

He shrugged. "No card. I get it every year on my birthday, these anonymous gifts. It'll be there on the table when I wake up."

"Maybe when you go inside," she nodded towards his house as they stood by his front gates, "You'll find a brown wrapped box on your table. By the way, aren't you always asleep during this time?"

Effie waited for her message to sink in and for him to come to an understanding.

"Wha – Effie?"

"Happy Birthday, Haymitch," she whispered and kissed his cheek. She turned to walk away when his hand shot out to stop her. Of course it was her. Why hadn't he thought of that? The only other person who had given him any presents was Effie when she found out his birthday during her fourth year. She stopped the habit when he called her pretentious and that the money spent on such things could feed a family in District Twelve.

"It was you. For the past three years, all those gifts at my house, it was you?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand," he said, frowning.

"I visit Twelve every year during your birthday. I'll leave you a present – I had to see you, see how you're doing and after that… I'll visit their graves before I return to Four."

"Four? So that's where you're staying."

She nodded.

"It doesn't make sense. If you stopped by my house why didn't you fucking say anything?" His voice had begun to carry some of his anger. He had been looking for her. She haunted him every night and to find out that she visited Twelve each year without bothering to even say anything to him, to even inform him of her presence, annoyed him greatly.

"Because… I can't! I thought you hated me, I thought I didn't mean anything to you, Haymitch! What was I supposed to think? You slept with me and then you left. You never visited me while I was in the hospital. Plutarch said you were busy and occupied with whatever plans Coin had and it was fine, really, I understand if you're busy but not one single visit, Mitch? Not once? And that day at the Capitol when you saw me … I just don't know what to think when it comes to you," she admitted morosely.

Haymitch was startled by how Effie carried herself now. She would never have exploded like that before or spoken her mind. The Effie he knew would have broken down in tears by then but the woman before him managed to hold herself together and he couldn't have been more proud.

He bridged the gap between them and wrapped her in his arms. Tucking her head underneath his chin, he stroked her hair and whispered against her temple two words he hardly ever uttered – "I'm sorry."

Effie nodded against his chest but it wasn't enough. He cupped her cheeks with both hands and tilted her head up so that she was looking at him.

"I'm sorry," he said again, sounding so urgent and desperate.

"I know," she said evenly, resting her hand on the side of his neck. "I know you are."

In that moment, he realized that he would have to make the first move because Effie was standing on thin ice. She was afraid and unsure of how he felt and she was never going to step forward and risk herself again.

When he finally kissed her, he heard her choking back a sob before her arms wound around his neck, pressing herself closer to him. They stood in front of his gate kissing before he carried her inside and laid her down on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"I miss you, Mitch," she told him as he trailed kisses on her collar bone down between the valley of her breasts.

Haymitch didn't say anything, he didn't have to because he would show her and she would understand all the things that he couldn't say. Slowly, their clothes were removed piece by piece and his hand travelled all over her body, mapping and memorizing the scars that marred her pale flesh. She shied away initially and attempted to cover her scars with her clothes, mumbling apologies under her breath and repeating over and over about how unsightly she was.

He thought she was ridiculous. Those monsters gave her scars and here she was apologizing. To prove his point, he kissed each and every one of them and patiently coaxed her out of her worry when he started tracing the longest scar running from her shoulder blade to her spine, trying to silently tell her that contrary to what she believed, it didn't put him off.

Effie felt vulnerable but she wasn't alone. He had never done this before. He had slept with other women before and he had slept with her but those times were different. Prior to all these, his feelings weren't embroiled with his acts of coupling but it was now and it scared him more than anything. He wasn't sure if it was possible to feel so much for someone without bursting into smithereens, to feel so much that you cannot even begin to put it into words to make them understand.

It was a long shot, but he let down the walls that he had built all those years to show her that she wasn't alone and in return for his trust, she slowly made him the core of her world in the coming years.

~ Fin

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Thank you for reading & i hope i haven't bore you in those five chapters.
> 
> When I first started this, it was supposed to be mainly smut but that, as you can see, didn't quite float. But, even so, I'm quite happy with how Longshot turned out.


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